The Longer The Fall

by Aviva Gat

  When the convention ended, they headed to the airport to return to their respective coasts. After passing through security Brandon waited with Madeline at her gate because her flight would take off first. There hadn’t been a lull in their conversation throughout the trip and their conversation continued animatedly until it was time for Madeline to board.

  “Come to California,” Brandon said as they stood face to face. It wasn’t a question. It’s debatable whether it was even a suggestion. It was more a statement, something that surely was inevitable in Madeline’s path. Madeline smiled in response and then Brandon kissed her.

  It was their first kiss. There weren’t fireworks or butterflies in Madeline’s stomach, but it was a good kiss. A solid kiss that sealed their partnership much like the way two children might prick their finger to mix their blood for an oath of undying friendship. Then Madeline got on her plane to New York. She spent the entire trip reminiscing over the weekend and daydreaming about what a future with Brandon could be like. His parents and family were long time GOP supporters, who donated significant amounts and had the ears of Washington DC in their cell phones. Brandon himself was no less impressive, having founded his own software company with a couple friends after finishing his Master’s in Business Administration from Stanford five years ago. The company’s software was now considered a ‘must-have’ for corporations all over the world, allowing them to manage financial data securely. Brandon was no doubt the driving force behind the company’s success and had been named one of the top 30 under 30 by every business and political media outlet that Madeline had ever heard of.

  The next month she and Brandon spoke daily on the phone. They often spent hours talking, until Madeline—whose time zone was three hours later than Brandon’s—ultimately announced that she needed to get at least some sleep before she had to get up in the morning for her own job working as a project manager at a large business consulting firm. When the month ended, she had successfully negotiated a transfer to her company’s Southern California office and had gracefully given up her beloved position as the Chairman of the New York Young Republican National Federation. She had every confidence that her vice Chairman would be able to step up and complete her duties as well as she had. While the other members of the YRNF chapter were sad to see her go—they declared that no one else shared her enthusiasm and her ability to solve problems before they arose—they understood why she was leaving. They could see that she and Brandon belonged together. She belonged with Brandon much more than she could ever belong in New York.

  And that was that. She gave up her Midtown apartment and packed what she could carry on a plane. The rest of her things were shipped to Southern California where they would arrive at her new home with Brandon. Brandon met her at the airport with the largest bouquet Madeline had ever seen and then he drove her to his apartment, where he had already cleared out half of his closet. He told Madeline to feel free to change any of the design in the apartment, even suggesting that they go furniture shopping together to find a new bed, couch, dining table and whatever else to make sure the apartment didn’t feel like Brandon’s. It was no longer Brandon’s apartment; it was their apartment.

  Madeline didn’t need to replace all of the furniture. She agreed they should get a new bed, one in which she wouldn’t feel like she was on a roller coaster every time Brandon rolled over at night. She also added several houseplants, abstract paintings on the walls, and replaced a few light fixtures. Even before making her changes, Madeline was impressed with Brandon’s good taste. The apartment already was well designed, but with her changes it felt like home.

  Madeline quickly fell into place in her new life. She became close with Brandon’s parents, who welcomed her into their home and family debates. His father held a PhD in economics and served as a political consultant to the last four presidents and his mother was a top oncologist who was specially sought out by the country’s wealthiest sick. Family dinners often revolved around debates on the country’s healthcare or economic state. Madeline felt at home debating with the Thomases and they appreciated her perspective and obvious passion for policy.

  Madeline also fit right into Brandon’s social circle. Many of his friends were also members of the YRNF and they too had heard of Madeline before she had moved to join their chapter. She quickly became a leader in the organization and bonded with other women in their circle. Life with Brandon appeared perfect to all who looked in on them. They were both ambitious, intelligent people who were obviously destined to do great things. On a personal level, they were both good-looking, friendly, and appeared like they fit together perfectly. No one could say a bad word about them.

  It wasn’t long before Brandon proposed. They were out to dinner celebrating Madeline’s recent promotion to director at her consulting firm. Brandon ordered the Italian restaurant’s most expensive bottle of champagne and when the waiter brought the glasses, Madeline’s had a shiny diamond ring inside. Brandon had secretly invited their friends for an engagement party in the private room at the back of the restaurant. Once Madeline slipped on the ring, they joined the group that was already celebrating their future union.

  Madeline was thinking about that time while she waited at home with the letter in her hand. Life was so simple back then. She and Brandon were ready to conquer the world and everyone believed they could do it. Years went by and Madeline still believed she could do it, but here in her hands was the first threat to her ambitions. Someone was trying to stop her from achieving, stop her from reaching the top.

  Her phone suddenly buzzed and she looked over to see a text from Brandon. Got your message. Cut the board meeting short. Home in 15.

  Brandon was nothing if not reliable and dedicated to her success as much as to his. They would solve this new dilemma together, just as they had solved all previous ones. On her own, Madeline wasn’t sure what could be done. But with Brandon, the other half of her dream team, she believed this was just an obstacle. A hurdle she could jump without looking back. There was no way something so trivial could ruin everything.

  Chapter 4

  Madeline was still sitting at the kitchen table with the letter in her hand when Brandon walked in the front door. His face was white, and lines of worry ran down from his eyes to his cheeks.

  “Madeline? Is everything all right? What happened?” he started saying even before he entered the kitchen where he knew Madeline would be sitting. That’s where she sat when pondering difficult subjects. That was where she sat when she first decided to run for senate in California six years ago. That was a dire decision, one that wasn’t borne from idealistic enthusiasm and inspired optimism. When she made the decision, she knew her chances were slim—after all, a republican had not won a senatorial seat in California in more than 20 years. She knew that most likely she was running a losing campaign, but she felt driven to do it anyway, knowing she was running her family through the biggest obstacle they would ever meet. She knew running would throw a few stones through her solid relationship with Brandon and she knew it would build the foundation for the wall between her and her sons. But sitting in the kitchen, at her spot across from the window, she decided to do it anyway. Her heart was heavy when she decided to run, but it was something she had to do. For herself, and for her country.

  “We need to talk,” Madeline said, sitting in her same spot across from the window. “You should probably sit down.” Brandon did as he was told and waited patiently for Madeline to gently unfold the letter and place it and the enclosed picture down on the table.

  “I’m being blackmailed,” Madeline began.

  “Blackmailed?” Brandon let a smile break through his lips. “That’s it? I was worried it was something serious. I thought something happened to you or, I don’t even know. Lauren had me so worried when she came into the board meeting to deliver your message.”

  Of course Brandon wasn’t worried. The two of them had always discussed the importance of ensuring there were no skeletons in their closet, no
fodder for hungry journalists or opponents trying to bring them down. How could somebody possibly blackmail them if there was nothing to hide?

  “What are they saying? And what do they want?” Brandon asked, looking down at the typed letter that Madeline had placed on the table.

  “They want $1 million,” Madeline responded. “Otherwise they will release proof to the media that I cheated on you.”

  “That you cheated?” Brandon almost laughed. Their marriage was the envy of everyone they knew. Magazines had even written profiles on them about what a perfect couple they were, how they lifted each other up, provided unending support for each other’s ambitions, and held hands like teenagers first discovering love. “Don’t they realize that no one would believe them?”

  Brandon then grabbed the picture that had been wrapped in the letter. It showed Madeline walking into the entrance of the Langham Hotel in New York City. The Fifth Avenue hotel was where Madeline always stayed on her visits to New York. It was centrally located and accommodating for the security and entourage that Madeline had been forced to travel with since entering the world of politics.

  Madeline recognized when the picture was taken by the red suit she was wearing. It was two years ago. She was in New York giving a speech to The WISH List. Standing for Women In the Senate and House, the organization helped pro-choice women in both political parties get elected to national office. The WISH List had greatly helped Madeline six years ago when she first started her senate campaign and she had supported them after her win, championing their cause and helping to mentor other women that the WISH List assisted. She knew her association with them was controversial within her own party. Most of her colleagues were not pro-choice, and if they were, they tended to keep their mouths shut about it. But not Madeline. She believed there was room in her party for others of her belief and that if the party didn’t evolve with the times, they would become obsolete. In fact, during that speech she gave to The WISH List two years ago, she championed the slogan “It’s our party too,” calling other young female republicans to come forward to fight for their beliefs.

  Madeline remembered how energized she had felt after that speech. Women on both sides of the political spectrum applauded her. Some republican women even admitted that she had inspired them to come forward. In the picture of her, walking into the Langham just hours after that speech, were two other people: the hotel doorman, easily recognizable from his black and red uniform; and a tall African American man wearing a short sleeved blue plaid shirt passing by on the sidewalk. In the picture, Madeline’s head was turned toward the doorman and the two of them held obvious eye contact.

  After studying the picture for a few moments, Brandon looked up to Madeline. “Are they saying you slept with the doorman?” From his expression, Brandon obviously saw this as hilarious, absurd. For a moment, a glint of worry passed his face. Madeline thought she saw it, but any expression from him was gone before she could acknowledge it.

  “I’m not sure exactly what they are alleging with this picture,” Madeline responded. She too saw the absurdity of this image, but she took everything seriously that could endanger her upcoming reelection campaign.

  “So what is the plan?” Brandon asked. “Have you talked to Jane? Obviously we’re not paying anything to this lunatic.”

  Madeline picked up her phone to call Jane and explain the situation. The blackmailer wanted the money before Madeline’s campaign launch event, which was exactly one month out. At that event, Madeline was to officially launch her reelection campaign for her second senate term. She had invited all her biggest donors, the leaders of her supporting political action committees, some congressional colleagues, state legislators and of course all the local and national media. She could only imagine what would happen should the conversation at that event turn from her campaign to an alleged cheating scandal. Whether or not the allegations were true wouldn’t matter. All that would matter was that someone suggested it and from there, all journalists would be scrounging for evidence. Her supporters would doubt the image of morality that she had worked so hard to build. Donors would wonder if their money would be better spent elsewhere. If Madeline wanted to be reelected, there was no way she could allow this allegation to be released. Not before her reelection launch. Not ever.

  Thoughts continued to swirl in Madeline’s head after she hung up with Jane. Of course, Jane understood all the same things that Madeline did. That if these allegations came to light, truth took a back seat. People love scandal more than they love what’s right. Scandals never disappear; they ruin careers, whether or not they are based on truth. Jane had told Madeline and Brandon to stay put, not to speak to anyone else about the letter. The FBI would be on their way to their house soon to begin their investigation.

  Madeline and Brandon sat quietly as they waited. Eventually Brandon stood up and brewed a new pot of coffee, making enough for the team of FBI agents that would arrive soon. When the aroma of coffee filled the air and the coffee machine sighed its signal that it had finished, Brandon poured two cups and brought them to the table. Moments later the doorbell rang and Brandon went to answer. He returned to the kitchen followed by Jane and three agents in dark suits carrying briefcases.

  “Can you believe the nerve of this person?” Jane bellowed as she came in. “I mean, if you’re going to allege something, it should at least be believable!” Jane sat down at the kitchen table, as did the three FBI agents, two men and one woman, who all introduced themselves. Agent Murray, Agent Hart and Agent Jones were all part of the FBI’s special investigations team specializing in political blackmail. Apparently it was something all politicians deal with, usually multiple times, and they were California’s specialists in finding the blackmailer. They just recently closed a case for another California politician who was being blackmailed for allegedly taking bribes to support recent legislation. They couldn’t reveal the name of the politician, but it was someone very prominent that surely could have had their career toppled had this team not found the blackmailer. The agents said whether the allegations were true or not was not their concern. Of course, if they were true, as they often were, it usually made it easier to find the blackmailer because they would know who was privy to the information.

  “Apparently being friendly and greeting a doorman is now cheating!” Brandon exclaimed back to Jane’s outburst as he retrieved coffee for all of their visitors.

  “The first question we have is whether you have any enemies,” Agent Murray started. “Is there anyone who comes to mind who might hate you? Want to end your career? Want revenge on you?”

  “Wow, well that would make quite a long list,” Jane yelled. “Madeline is a republican senator in California who supports abortion and gay rights! She has more enemies than she can count! Democrats hate her because she took a California senate seat that they usually can count on! Republicans hate her because she doesn’t just blindly vote for what they tell her to! Just last week Madeline voted against Senator Collins’ bill that added new chapters to the tax code. She was the only republican to vote against it! A few didn’t vote and that of course shows they were against it, but Madeline was the only one with guts! Senator Collins was really angry with Madeline. What did he say? It takes some nerve for a freshman senator to defy party lines. Could he be behind this?”

  “It’s possible,” Agent Hart responded. “We’ll pursue all leads. Is there anyone else?”

  “Like I said, Madeline has many enemies in Washington. A lot of people would benefit from her losing her seat,” Jane continued.

  “Anyone with a personal vendetta?” Agent Jones, the woman investigator, said. “If they are asking for money, it seems to me that it would be less likely to be a political opponent. A political opponent might ask Madeline to vacate her seat or vote a certain way.”

  “Wouldn’t that make it too obvious who they were?” Jane retorted. “It the blackmailer said vote for bill 1234 or else, well, then obviously the blackmailer is whoever is trying to p
ass that bill.”

  Madeline thought deeply, but she had no names to offer the FBI agents. She was always nice to everyone, tried hard to be respectful, not too offensive to political opponents. She was always professional, never attacking an opponent’s personal life or family, sticking solely to politics, to what really mattered to her.

  “What about you, Mr. Thomas?” Agent Murray turned to Brandon. “Do you have any enemies? Someone who could be doing this to Madeline to get to you?”

  Brandon pursed his lips as though giving this question deep thought, before shaking his head. “We live like politicians, people in the spotlight all the time. We’re careful not to make enemies.”

  The officers stayed for hours, continuing to ask questions that Madeline and Brandon couldn’t answer. Is there someone who may believe that you cheated? Have either of you ever had a stalker or an admirer? Did Madeline remember this doorman that she greeted as she entered the hotel? Had the doorman entered her room at the Langham?

  When the agents finally realized they wouldn’t be getting any helpful information by sitting there in the kitchen drinking coffee that had long since gone cold, they stood up to leave. They took the letter and the picture with them and promised to keep the Thomas’ apprised of their investigation. They would be travelling to New York to interview all the employees who had worked at the Langham two years ago when the picture was taken. They would investigate anyone who might be running against Madeline for her senate seat. They would even set up surveillance in the Thomas’ very private neighborhood to ensure they weren’t being watched, nor that were any of their neighbors were showing an unusual interest in them or the investigation.